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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646199">spirits in my head and they won't go</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amessofgaywords/pseuds/amessofgaywords'>amessofgaywords</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, and viola is a sassy mom to them, i have crammed all possible viola headcanons into one fic somehow, i went into this fic fascinated by her and came out in love with her, in celebration of... well... them i guess, in which dani cannot make tea and jamie cannot make cookies, nobody dies in this except viola, so me with every woman ever basically, though she's technically already dead, welcome to the "dani and jamie reform a ghost" au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:53:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amessofgaywords/pseuds/amessofgaywords</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dani comes home from running some errands and finds Jamie, on the floor in the living room, wearing a bandana over her wet curls and surrounded by candles. She smiles cheekily up at Dani. “It’s a summoning circle,” she says, as if this is normal.</p><p>or exorcism via tea and biscuits, where dani and jamie learn to live with a ghost, a ghost learns how to be a decent person, and everything is perfectly bloody splendid.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dani Clayton/Jamie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>277</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the first few years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>welcome to some ghost nonsense, in which i take a deep dive into viola lloyd's character for no reason other than... i like her, a little bit. not gonna lie, she got away from me in this a tad. turns out viola can be quite the dramatic little monologue-er. i really wish i could have done her and jamie's weird companionship better justice in this but... i guess that gives me room for a parallel fic? maybe? </p><p>truthfully, this fic really started out focused on dani's being possessed and kind of turned into a viola character study. but i think there's such an interesting relationship between what's pulling on her (rage, love, gravity and her own willpower) and what's tethering her (her daughter, and eventually dani and jamie). viola wants to be a mother, i think, first and foremost, and she finds that opportunity with dani and jamie in a sense, as well as the affirmation she needs to let go. really, the possession isn't about viola feeling rage; it's about her feeling a lack of love.</p><p>anyway, please, enjoy.</p><p>title from spirits by the strumbellas.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dani Clayton is a simple girl. She grew up in Iowa. She was a schoolteacher, then an au pair, and now she’s kind of a nothing but sort of a part-time florist. She wears denim jackets and practical sneakers. She loves one woman with all of her heart and keeps a ring in her pocket to remind herself. She has a seventeenth century ghost rattling around in the back of her skull. That part, well, that part’s not so simple.</p><p>Jamie Taylor is a boring girl. She grew up in a coal town. She was a convict, then a gardener, and now she’s a florist with the loveliest part-time florist to keep her company. She wears dungarees and flannels. She used to live above a country pub. Now she’s (eugh) practically an American. She’s in love with a woman who’s possessed, literally possessed, by the waterlogged consciousness of a centuries-old aristocrat with a choking streak. That part isn’t so boring.</p><p>Dani Clayton and Jamie Taylor share their lives with an inextricable ghost. It has not passed either of them by, the idea of an exorcism. Via sheer force of will, and, as Jamie puts it, “the strength of our bloody love, that’s what.” It can’t be traditional, no. Rather, they would need to drag the stubborn Lady out, and somehow, keep her there. It seems like a long shot. But so is their little flower shop in Vermont and the bed they share every night, so. </p><p>Jamie first brings it up while she’s potting some calla lilies. Dani is reading a book on the floor behind the counter. Jamie is standing between her spread-out legs.</p><p>“I’ve been doing some reading on ghosts.” This is, as Dani will later say, a horrible way to start a conversation, but it gets her attention nonetheless. Slowly, she looks up from her book, staring at Jamie’s back with narrowing eyes, trying to discern where she’s going with this. “What they need, what they like, that sort of thing.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.” It’s been about a year. Long enough that Dani’s fears of waking up <i>not herself</i> one day have dwindled slightly, not quite long enough that they’ve disappeared entirely. She still thinks about it sometimes, but she finds she can look at herself in the mirror now, and when Jamie cracks jokes about being haunted it doesn’t send her into a spiral like it used to.</p><p>Jamie scratches the back of her neck, and Dani’s eyes are drawn to the steak of dirt it leaves behind. “Hmm. Seems a lot of them are in it for the unfinished business, you see.”</p><p>“Are you trying to banish her?”</p><p>“I dunno.” Jamie looks back at Dani over her shoulder, smirks. “Just thinking, love.”</p><p>They don’t talk about <i>that</i> again for a few years. An unspoken promise that time is too precious to bog down with thoughts of the Lady, thoughts of the lake. Dani forgets about the conversation until the first time she sees her reflection. <i>Her</i> reflection.</p><p>The smart thing to do is keep it to herself, but Dani’s seen enough movies and not telling the person you love about important things usually leads to a lot of stuff Dani doesn’t want to deal with. So she tells Jamie while they’re eating dinner one night.</p><p>“She’s back.” Jamie, ironically, seems more preoccupied about this than Dani is. She can’t explain it. But something about the Lady’s reflection – <i>Viola,</i> she realizes with sudden clarity – something about Viola’s reflection is just not… menacing enough. She seems more curious than terrifying. And Dani’s not saying she feels <i>bad</i> for her, but she is saying that she’s not feeling the urge to go jump in a lake yet.</p><p>“She, like, Lady in the Lake she?” Jamie clarifies. Dani nods and hums. “How do ya- you alright?” Dani shrugs. </p><p>“She hasn’t made any moves yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”</p><p>“In a sense.” Jamie drains a long sip of wine and licks her lips. “How long?”</p><p>“A couple days or so. I wanted to make sure it was real before I told you.” </p><p>Jamie nods, absorbing the information. She drums her fingers on the table, something she does when she’s thinking. “Well thank you, for that. What do you suppose we do about, eh, her?” She waves a hand around at Dani’s head like there’s some apparition over her shoulder that Jamie can’t see. There’s a hint of something like incredulity in the back of her mind. Dani smirks.</p><p>“We wait, I guess.”</p><p>Jamie doesn’t seem pleased with that answer.</p><p>Life goes on. Every so often, the Lady’s faceless reflection crops up in a window, in a puddle, in the black TV screen. Never the mirror, though. Dani might be going crazy, but each time, she feels like the reflection is getting a little clearer. A little less… faceless.</p><p>“I think she’s coming back,” Dani says, one night while <i>Sabrina</i> plays and Jamie is reading some book about the care and keeping of different types of herbs (“it’s research,” Jamie says. “It’s boring,” Dani argues). “Like, back to life, back. Or, back to memory, maybe?”</p><p>“How do you figure that?” Jamie turns a page in her book and glances at Dani out of the corner of her eye. Those herbs must really be interesting.</p><p>“I can see her mouth now. And a little bit of her nose, too. It’s not just a faceless blob anymore.” Jamie hums.</p><p>“Suppose that’s good, then. Perhaps when she’s fully conscious she can tell you why she insists on choking people to death and possessing them instead of negotiating with them like a normal person.” Maybe Dani’s hallucinating, but she feels something, like a huff of laughter, against the back of her skull. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing. “I, for one, would like to know what she wants with my girlfriend.”</p><p>“I don’t think she wants anything from me.” Dani cocks her head, thinking. “I think she wants out of here just as much as I want her out.”</p><p>“Well that’s bloody useful, innit?” Jamie turns, knocking on the side of Dani’s head, a little hard honestly. “Oi! Dead lady! You in there? You wanna get out and have a brew?”</p><p>In her best approximation of a haughty English accent (because she doesn’t feel all that heavy right now, to be honest), Dani lifts her chin and says “Certainly, Miss Taylor. I would absolutely adore to discuss the details of my long and arduous life with you.”</p><p>Jamie’s laughter lands itself in Dani’s lap as she collapses sideways, her shoulders shaking. Dani loves making her laugh like this. She slaps the side of Dani’s thigh, trying to draw in a long breath. “Poppins. Poppins, that can’t be what she sounds like.”</p><p>“It’s not,” Dani shrugs honestly. “She doesn’t talk, actually. She communicates more through… feeling. Like a tickle or something.” Jamie thinks for a second. Her herbs book is well and truly abandoned now. She splays out over Dani’s lap, twisting her old Guns &amp; Roses shirt around her pointer finger. After a second, she raises her eyebrows.</p><p>“Could you communicate back, maybe?” Jamie forces herself up, leaning into Dani’s side while they re-tangle their legs together. “Tell her to fuck off. Or just to talk, something like that?” Dani shakes her head with pursed lips.</p><p>“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not really- it’s not really like that. We can’t really get <i>messages</i> across or anything. I don’t- I don’t know anything.”</p><p>“Okay.” Jamie lets it go and starts narrating about the life cycle of oregano, and Dani loses herself in the easy waves of loving her.</p><p>Of course, Dani starts to know things. Things like the names of lords and ladies Viola used to rub elbows with, ancient history facts she would have no way of knowing otherwise. When she dreams of Bly (which isn’t as much as she used to, but still a bit too much) she dreams of old wooden furniture and elegant drapery as much as Owen’s fancy kitchen. Sometimes, she finds herself stopping in the textile shop on Main Street to run her fingers over the most expensive fabrics. It doesn’t feel scary. It does feel confusing. She’s not losing parts of herself, but she’s… gaining. Parts of someone else. Parts of <i>Viola.</i> </p><p>It’s funny. Dani sees the reflection every so often. Never in mirrors, still. Almost like Viola’s afraid of that much clarity. But in the silver shine of the kettle when Jamie’s making tea, or the glass countertop at The Leafling. A hint of a face here and there. Less and less blank as time goes on. Viola has a mouth, full (albeit chapped – guess that happens when you’re dead) lips, and then she has a nose, and her eyes start to form too. They don’t open, but it’s something. Dani doesn’t feel the dread that she used to. Something about this youthful, beautiful Viola doesn’t scare her so much as the faceless ghost of Bly Manor. She can’t even really call her the Lady anymore.</p><p>While all of this is happening, Jamie is… Jamie. Stupidly perfect, substantially beautiful, stubbornly annoying and <i>Dani’s</i>. Which is a marvelous, wonderful thing. It really is. Jamie’s also a pain in the ass.</p><p>Dani’s noticed her nighttime reading leans a little to the side of <i>seventeenth century gothic romance</i> lately, and she keeps finding weird reasons to go to the cemetery, which honestly freaks Dani out a little. She did some research into popular flavors of tea for the 1640 aristocracy, and now she keeps leaving cups of full-bodied black oolong out on the counter for Dani to drink. And Dani the coffee-obsessed Yank does not like these cups of tea, but apparently Dani the ghost-vessel for Viola does. So she drinks them and Jamie doesn’t mention it.</p><p>Jamie never outright <i>says</i> that she wants Viola to come out, because obviously that’s a little taboo. But she does little things that make Dani think she wouldn’t mind it so much if Viola <i>did.</i> </p><p>It’s hints here and there until Dani comes home from running some errands and finds Jamie, on the floor in the living room, wearing a bandana over her wet curls and surrounded by candles. She smiles cheekily up at Dani. “It’s a summoning circle,” she says, as if this is normal.</p><p>“Oo-kay,” Dani says, setting her purse on the chair and coming closer, making sure not to hit her long skirt on any of the <i>open flames, what a fire hazard.</i> “For Viola?”</p><p>“Yeah, why not. Figured she could use a push.” Jamie shrugs like this is normal. It isn’t, but who is Dani to say that? She can’t really tell anymore.</p><p>Dani goes along with the candles and the fancy pillows and the tea and the incense (where did Jamie even <i>get</i> that) but she draws the line when Jamie says they should hold hands and put ash on their foreheads. “You can’t seriously think this is going to work.”</p><p>“No, but I do think it’s funny.” There’s that grin that Dani loves. She rolls her eyes. She takes Jamie’s hand, but no way she’s putting cigarette ash on her forehead for this.</p><p>Jamie takes a deep breath, purses her lips, closes her eyes. Dani watches her. “We… um… shit. I don’t know how to do this. We open our hearts to the ghosts?”</p><p>“I did that already. Kind of how we got here.” This whole situation should be serious, but it’s also a little ridiculous.</p><p>Jamie shakes her head and composes herself. “I’m just gonna address her.” Dani nods. “Okay. Uh, Viola Lloyd. Lady of Bly Lake. Uh, Bly Pond. Which do you prefer?” The tickle at the back of Dani’s head is a little stronger, and she squeezes Jamie’s hand. “Bly Lake. Yeah.”</p><p>She stops herself there. Dani can practically hear her thinking. “Could you maybe tell us what you want?” She jumps in, and Jamie hums. Unsurprisingly, there’s only silence.</p><p>Jamie’s grip is tighter in Dani’s hand; she’s clearly getting impatient. “Uh, Viola, listen, you’re sort of inhabiting the body of a woman I love pretty deeply,” Dani grins despite herself, “and I’m not really here for it, being honest. So if you could… skip on out of there, I’d appreciate it.” She clears her throat. “And don’t let the door hit your oversized bustle on the way out.”</p><p>Dani’s snort clears up the atmosphere pretty quickly. After a second she opens an eye. “Wow. Can’t believe that didn’t work.”</p><p>“Shut up.” Jamie swats at Dani and climbs to her feet, grumbling. She heads to the kitchen, probably for more tea, maybe for a beer. Dani stays on the carpet.</p><p>There’s a floor length mirror on the wall next to the door, meant for who-knows-what, that Dani sometimes keeps covered with scarves on her jittery days. Right now, she sits cross-legged and stares at her reflection. Wispy blonde hair, pulled back with a scrunchie. Tights, a skirt, and an oversized purple sweater under a denim jacket. Two eyes. One blue and one brown. She shuts the brown one tight. Her reflection is a little blurry, but it’s there. She closes the blue one and opens the brown one.</p><p>Viola looks back at her. Dani can’t be sure it <i>is</i> her, at first. She’s not the way she’s seen her before. Her hair, where it’s normally wet and dripping, is bouncy and curly, and the sleeves of her gown are puffed and crop off at her shoulders. Her eyes actually <i>exist.</i> She’s in all black and white, like an old photograph, and she’s laughing. Silently. She looks… amused.</p><p>Dani opens both eyes, and she’s gone.</p><p>And for some reason, she isn’t scared. Jamie comes back with a bottle of beer. “So… given that the séance didn’t work, what would you say to a romantic floor dinner this evening?”</p><p>Dani leans closer to her, eyes sparkling. “Did you light all these candles just to romance me?” Jamie has the <i>audacity</i> to look sheepish.</p><p>“Would it still work if I said yes?”</p><p>“Probably.”</p><p>And just like that, it seems like Jamie’s curiosity is sated. She doesn’t bring Viola up again, not of her own volition. She seems perfectly happy to let the ghostie go. Unfortunately, the ghostie is ramming her head against Dani’s bones on a daily basis in the form of what feels like poking and gentle sighing sounds and it’s getting pretty hard to just <i>ignore</i> it. She does her best. She really does.</p><p>And then one day she’s eating lunch (ramen – they are both really bad at cooking) at the kitchen counter and she hears someone cough. Jamie, by the way, is downstairs in the shop.</p><p>Dani turns around. She’s alone. Not even a Peter Quint apparition to be found. She goes back to her ramen. The person coughs again. It sounds… wet.</p><p>Oh, <i>Jesus.</i></p><p>Viola coughs a third time, and then says <i>I’m dreadfully sorry, but there seems to be seaweed caught in my lungs.</i></p><p>And because Dani’s a rational ghost vessel, she swallows a forkful of ramen and says “Actually, I don’t think it’s seaweed if it’s in a lake.”</p><p><i>Is that right?</i> Viola drawls. In the mirror next to the door, across the room, Dani can just faintly see Viola over her shoulder. She has eyes now, deep, swirling brown ones. Really, <i>really</i> bouncy curly dark hair. Slim shoulders. And one of those cat-and-canary grins. She’s actually kind of pretty.</p><p>Oh god, that is not something Dani should be thinking about her resident dead consciousness.</p><p>To counteract these thoughts and shove them far, far away (there is a <i>major</i> yuck factor here), Dani frowns. “You can breathe?”</p><p><i>It would appear so.</i> Viola does not seem to want to stop grinning. <i>I was not aware one could do that when dead, but I suppose life of late has been full of surprises.</i></p><p>“You’re telling me,” Dani breathes. And just at that perfect moment, the lock jiggles in the door and Jamie comes in.</p><p>“Hey there, Poppins,” she says with her easy smile. “Lunch? Damn, I was going to order something. No mind.” She frowns at the look on Dani’s face. “Were you talking to someone?”</p><p>“Viola.” Dani cannot lie worth a <i>damn.</i></p><p>Jamie raises a singular eyebrow. “Viola, huh? She decided to open her mouth and grace us with her presence?”</p><p>Dani shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t know, she just- she coughed, and then she was talking. She said. She said she didn’t know she could breathe.”</p><p>“Well, what’s she saying now?” Jamie, who is approaching this with all the grace and handling of a six year old discovering play-dough for the first time, darts towards the counter with an inquisitive (though it’s a good attempt at restrained) look on her face. “Anything good?”</p><p>“She… um…” Dani listens, but Viola seems to have retreated, from both the mirror and her brain. “No, I think she’s gone.”</p><p>“Damn,” Jamie sounds almost disappointed. But she gets over it quick. They haven’t kissed in about two hours, after all.</p><p>That may be the first time Viola shows up, but it certainly isn’t the last. Dani can’t always see her. In fact, most of the time she can’t. But she can hear her. A lot. And considering Viola’s quite the opinionated woman, it’s a miracle Dani hasn’t walked herself off of a bridge yet.</p><p>For example, Viola, who is apparently the modern equivalent of an economics major, does not approve of the way Dani keeps the books for The Leafling. She and Jamie decided, back when they bought the shop, that Dani would handle the business side of things and Jamie would do the plants, and so far that seems to be working well. </p><p>Until one day she’s looking at the outstanding accounts and she hears a little scoff (it’s not little, more like a hurricane style scoff) behind her. In her head. <i>Oh, honestly. You are too kind on these people.</i></p><p>“How do you mean?” Viola’s voice has a weird kind of familiarity to it. This was the second or third time she had said something to Dani completely unprompted. She never stuck around for long, but she was always… miffed about something.</p><p>
  <i>Look at this. You have given them… credit? Whatever do you think you will do for profit if you do not  properly keep track of-</i>
</p><p>Dani feels little shame about interrupting the friendly neighborhood ghost. “It’s <i>store</i> credit, because they made returns. And I do keep track of things, thank you very much.”</p><p>Jamie has been across the shop chatting roses with Mrs. Klienfield, but she looks over in… slight concern. Dani flashes her a smile. She refuses to let Viola get to her.</p><p>
  <i>Yes, I can see that, Miss Clayton. You keep track of how much money you are letting them steal from you. And you absolutely refuse to abide by the standardized tax regulation by the looks of things.</i>
</p><p>“How do you even know about that?” Dani questions, but Viola seems busy. She huffs.</p><p><i>Your mind has a wealth of information available for me to access, including twentieth century finance laws. Now, can we get to work?</i> And Dani will <i>not</i> admit it in this decade, but Viola is actually a pretty decent financial advisor. Within a couple of weeks, she’s doing most of the work, from inside of Dani’s body, that is. If Jamie notices the shift in the bookkeeping, she doesn’t say anything.</p><p>Dani has also learned how to stomach very strong tea, and negotiated to have a cup of coffee every so once and a while, even though Viola says it tastes like boiled dirt. She’s not really wrong, anyway.</p><p>Dani’s gotten used to the every-so-often interruptions in her train of thought. Viola, startlingly, is a rather lively conversation partner, and there’s a part of Dani that sort of <i>likes</i> teaching her about things like instant noodles and record players. It’s like working with kids again, except the kid is actually stubborn, somewhat dramatic seventeenth century adult nobility and the kid also lives inside Dani’s body.</p><p>For example, when Viola insists on reading one of those trashy cowboy romance novels from the grocery store, and almost ends up vomiting all over Dani’s brain at the horrible descriptions in the steamy scenes. Or when she finds herself so <i>utterly</i> confused by idea of the Internet that she ends up manifesting herself in the mirror, holding her head in pain and fear, for several minutes.</p><p>There’s also the stuff about Jamie. Viola says she should act <i>like a proper lady</i> and stop wearing jeans that have been covered in the same dirt for more than a few days. Viola says her accent is <i>adorably grating</i> (Dani still doesn’t know if that one is a compliment or an insult) and her word choice <i>ridiculously inappropriate, must she be so foul-mouthed?</i> Dani, for her part, does not mind a few <i>shites</i> here and there, as long as Jamie is saying them.</p><p>Viola, she realizes pretty quickly, also does not care about plants. Much at all, in fact. She finds them useless. A pretty decoration for a ball and not much else. And they make her sneeze. This, Dani would imagine Jamie does not agree with.</p><p>Jamie, however, does not know about Viola’s opinionated diatribes. Well, she does, because Dani’s told her, but she’s never <i>heard</i> one. They are in her head, after all. For some reason, this seems to disappoint Jamie. In a weird way. Maybe she feels left out, or something. Whenever Dani drifts off, listening to the voice in her head, Jamie gets this weird, wistful look on her face. It makes her guilty, kind of.</p><p>In any case, Dani comes home one day to find Jamie sitting at the kitchen counter with two cups of tea, a plate of chocolate chip cookies only a little bit burnt around the edges, and a mischievous smile.</p><p>“Hi, honey. Welcome home,” Dani mocks as she drops onto one of their stools, facing Jamie across the counter. She accepts the tea that is shoved at her graciously. It’s one of Jamie’s dark, heavy concoctions, the ones she drinks when she’s remembering coal-covered mornings or trying very, <i>very</i> hard to stay awake for her plants. “Did you bake these?”</p><p>“Yes.” Jamie nibbles on the edge of a cookie. “They’re edible. I think.”</p><p>Dani samples them. Decent, as far as Jamie’s cooking goes. She has a feeling they came from a tube at the grocery store, but she doesn’t mention it. “So, what’s with the after-school snack?”</p><p>Jamie opens her mouth and looks down at the counter: her <i>pause</i> face. Her <i>I might have done something stupid please don’t yell at me</i> face. “I had an idea.”</p><p>“Jamie…”</p><p>“An idea! Poppins, listen. You’ve been having a fair handful of ghost chats lately, and I thought, well, I haven’t met the Lady proper yet. And since you seem to be able to accomplish little with small talk-” Dani interjects with a muttered “hey!” but lets her continue – “I figured maybe we could coax her out. With tea and biscuits, like some proper housewives.” Jamie’s proud little smile reels Dani in, even if she… doesn’t understand what they’re doing here.</p><p>“So instead of a séance, it’s… a tea séance.”</p><p>“Thereabouts.” Jamie bites off another chunk of cookie. “Think she’d be willing to chat?”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Dani admits. Never once has she actually <i>summoned</i> Viola before. Viola just… goes where she wants, and does what she wants. The thought of calling her forward into Dani’s consciousness is a little creepy, but it seems she doesn’t have to worry about it for long.</p><p><i>I heard my presence was desired.</i> Viola’s amused lilting voice wavers at the back of Dani’s head. <i>Don’t let her worry her pretty little head another moment. I have an idea.</i></p><p>An idea coming from Viola, Dani thinks, is a spectacularly terrifying prospect. Nonetheless, she holds up a finger to show Jamie she’s ghost-communicating, and waits.</p><p>Seconds later, her mouth is opening and voice which is not her own is speaking with it. “Miss Taylor, darling. So lovely to properly meet you. I do believe we haven’t been introduced.”</p><p>Dani immediately claps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Jamie drops her cookie on the counter and stares hard behind Dani’s head. “That’s… hmm. Nope, I’ve decided I hate this. Hate this idea, let’s just…” Jamie scrambles to pick up the plate of cookies and the mugs, sweeping the crumbs off the counter. In the back of Dani’s head, she hears a somewhat maniacal laugh.</p><p><i>Oh, don’t be like that. It was merely a bit of fun.</i> This time, the urging is slightly less… creepy. Or <i>Invasion of the Body Snatchers</i>-esque. “She says, and I quote: ‘don’t be like that, it was merely a bit of fun.’”</p><p>“Ghostie needs to get a better definition of fun.” Jamie pauses with the plate in her hand, thinking on it. Tentatively, she sits back down. “Right then. An apology, and I’ll consider giving her a <i>truly</i> delicious biscuit.”</p><p><i>Does she know I cannot consume food?</i> Somehow, convincing her girlfriend and her resident ghost consciousness to get along never occurred to Dani as a side effect of being possessed. It probably should have. She makes an admonishing noise at Viola, who grumbles. <i>Fine. Tell her I’m sorry for giving her a little fright, but she should really learn to respect her elders, and perhaps not wear quite so much flannel.</i></p><p>“She says she’s sorry.”</p><p>
  <i>That is decidedly not what I said.</i>
</p><p>“She’s really sorry.”</p><p>Jamie’s lips quirk. “Anything else she telling you, Poppins?” Dani shakes her head, and Jamie seems to take this in stride. “Fine. Well, this back-and-forth nonsense is a bit time consuming. If we’re gonna have a real talk, we’ve got to be able to communicate simultaneously, yeah? So, Miss Genius, have any more bright ideas?” Jamie knocks on the side of Dani’s head, and Dani flinches away with a smile.</p><p><i>In fact, I do. Go retrieve a piece of paper, Miss Clayton. And some sort of writing utensil.</i> Dani does as she’s told. When she’s seated, tea in one hand and pen in the other, she feels Viola settle down. <i>Now. She can ask whatever she likes.</i> Dani relays the message.</p><p>“Right… um, well, I guess the best first question, how quickly do you think you could exit the woman I love?” Dani glares. “Okay, fine. Simpler, then. What do you think of Vermont so far?”</p><p>Without her being consciously aware of the fact, Dani writes <i>rather boring, in all honesty</i> on the paper. Jamie watches, and smiles at Dani.</p><p>“I think the tea séance is working, yeah?” Jamie glances awkwardly to the shopping bag Dani saw when she came in the door. “And we didn’t even need the Ouija board.”</p><p>And just like that, Viola becomes… <i>a thing.</i> A thing that crops up every so often. When they’re watching a movie and Viola has <i>thoughts</i> (often), when Jamie sometimes wants to show Viola a particularly stubborn plant and say “look, it’s you, Kitty!” (less often, but still). Jamie takes to calling Viola Kitty, because apparently her petulance reminds her of a wet cat. Viola, for her part, calls Jamie <i>your woman</i>  more often than not. Sometimes, also, <i>the dirty one.</i></p><p>Despite their apparent antagonistic relationship, Dani wonders if Jamie doesn’t get along with Viola better than Dani herself does. Jamie leaves notes for Viola around the house about things that Dani always finds her right hand responding to. They are usually ended with a crooked smiley face. The first time Viola says the word <i>fuck</i> properly Jamie has to restrain herself from throwing a literal party. Sometimes, when Dani is out running errands, she’ll feel her gaze tugged towards a particularly interesting book or a pretty-colored bandana and Viola will say, with an air of indifference, <i>perhaps your woman would like that.</i> More often than not, Jamie does. Dani never mentions that Viola points out some of the random gifts, but she thinks Jamie can tell anyway. Dani is hopeless when it comes to picking out good bandanas.</p><p>For her part, Jamie uses plants. It’s her love language, and she’s damn good at it, too. Her first attempt is violets – “for your name,” she tells her – and when those go over… fine, she tries a cactus. “Cause you’re prickly.” She presents it to Dani, but it’s Viola who answers.</p><p><i>She thinks she’s hilarious, doesn’t she?</i> Dani is always happy when Viola uses contractions or modern slang terms. It shows she’s adjusting. (She really has started to see her as a student, of a sort). <i>Just hilarious.</i> </p><p>“She likes it,” Dani says, taking the cactus and setting it on a shelf by the window in the living room. Over time, this shelf grows until it amasses about as many plants as the rest of their tiny apartment. Jamie labels it Viola with a little handmade sign. Every time Dani sees it in the corner of her eye, a small sunbeam of happiness radiates out of the back of her skull.</p><p>Yes, it’s two years into this possession experiment, and Viola is no longer a looming threat. The <i>beast in the jungle</i> Dani was once so afraid of is actually, she has learned, little more than a housecat with a bitter disposition. Not unlike her Jamie, just deader and slightly more refined.</p><p>Dani realizes, startlingly, as she prepares her now daily cup of strong tea, that she’s actually starting to care for the ghost in her head. She remembers the things Viola likes, makes note of them. Every so often, when she’s home alone with nothing to do, she’ll engage in a bit of a chat, and she finds she likes listening to Viola’s childhood stories. When Viola feels distress, she finds herself trying to quell it, and not just because it’s in her own head as well. And when Viola makes a dirty comment in public, she usually has to do her best to cover up her instinctual snort. She actually… likes this woman.</p><p>It’s as surprising as it is not surprising. After all, cohabitation can make people pretty cozy. And when the veneer of the evil faceless ghost falls away, Viola isn’t a half bad roommate. At least she doesn’t leave a mess in the bathroom or anything.</p><p>About once a month, Dani and Jamie make some tea and cookies and Viola takes over Dani’s right arm to talk with them. It’s the easiest way they’ve been able to come up with for Jamie and Viola to communicate directly. Ever since the first time, Viola holds back on <i>actually</i> possessing Dani. She doesn’t know if that’s because she doesn’t want to or she can’t, but either way she doesn’t mind. Dani thinks there are some boundaries Viola knows not to cross.</p><p>It’s a few months into these tea séances (Jamie refuses to call them anything else) when Walter becomes a variable. Walter is an American Staffordshire Terrier who Jamie finds shivering in a cardboard box by the bakery, and much like Dani’s propensity to adopt plants from the side of the road, Jamie ends up taking him to the vet and getting him his shots and stopping by a PetSmart, and suddenly they have a dog.</p><p>Walter is sweet. He’s house trained by the first week, and he has a gentle disposition and a playful pant. He cuddles up in Jamie’s lap every evening for a good, long nap, and he’s like a furnace in the bed whenever he climbs in. Which is good, since winter is coming. Dani loves Walter as soon as she sees him, and her and Jamie decide they have now dedicated their lives to raising this dog.</p><p>Viola does not like Walter.</p><p>It’s the lady in her, Dani is pretty sure. But the second she sees him, the morning after he arrives at their home, drinking water out of a dish on the floor, Dani feels her flinch.</p><p>
  <i>That is… this is the dirty one’s fault, isn’t it?</i>
</p><p>“His name is Walter, Viola. We’re keeping him. It was our decision, together.” Jamie, across the room watering some plants, snorts, and Dani smiles over at her, the <i>I can handle this</i> smile.</p><p>
  <i>I don’t believe I was consulted. </i>
</p><p>“Hmm? I didn’t know you were a part of this relationship now. That’s certainly a change we’ll have to adjust to. What do you think, Jamie?” Jamie is all too happy to piss Viola off.</p><p>“I mean, the bed might be a little cramped, but I think we can make it work.” Her cheeky grin has Viola groaning.</p><p><i>That is not what I meant, and you both know it.</i> Dani just shrugs. <i>Dogs are dangerous creatures, Miss Clayton. They strangle you in your sleep and their fur gets all over everything.</i></p><p>“I think you’re the only one I’ve ever worried about choking me in my sleep, Kitty,” Jamie says when Dani relays Viola’s reaction. “Walter is staying. We certainly love him more than you, anyway.”</p><p>Viola sniffs, and Dani thinks she’s almost… hurt? <i>Take that back,</i> she says. Dani cracks a smile.</p><p>“Don’t worry. She’s pulling your leg.” She shoves Jamie’s arm, and Jamie rolls her eyes. “But Walter is staying.”</p><p>
  <i>You will be the death of me, Dani Clayton.</i>
</p><p>“Viola, you’re already dead. Stop being dramatic.”</p><p>After Walter, Viola is quiet for a little while. Dani isn’t actually sure where she goes when she disappears, it just isn’t anywhere she can reach. She’s either sulking or readying to strike, but if the past year has taught Dani anything it’s that a Viola placated is usually a Viola harmless, though it certainly took time to come to that conclusion. </p><p>In fact, now that she’s adjusted to the whole thing, Dani has been doing some wondering. And she wants to know if Viola is… <i>sorry</i>. You know, for the choking and killing and drowning and stuff. And she kind of wants to ask. She doesn’t want to make Viola mad, but she wants to know. About all of it. What it was like, how she stomached it… and <i>why.</i> </p><p>So when Jamie comes back from walking Walter, rain flecking her hair and her jacket, Dani’s got a brew and some cookies waiting. Jamie raises an eyebrow, but sits on the couch anyway. “Don’t we usually do this at the counter?”</p><p>“I wanted her to be comfortable.” Dani shrugs, and Jamie picks up a cookie. They’re slightly more edible when Dani makes them. Walter shakes himself off and settles in between Jamie’s crossed legs, and she nods, giving Dani permission to start.</p><p>“Alright, then.”</p><p>Dani takes a deep breath. “Hey, Viola?” Something wakes at the back of her mind. “You want some tea?”</p><p><i>Well, of course.</i> Viola sounds politely acquiescing. <i>If you’re offering. </i></p><p>Viola makes herself known more fully, like she’s sitting at attention. Jamie reaches for a steno pad in the drawer of the side table, but Dani shakes her head. “No, I- I think she should say this one.” Both Viola and Jamie perk up at that. “Um, Viola, I wanted to ask you. I wanted to ask why. You haven’t really said much about your life, beyond the nice stories and all that, and I guess I wanted- and I know this is hard. So please don’t get angry, but it’s been some time and I think we have a right-” Jamie coughs to cut off Dani’s rambling. “Sorry. Just… why did you do what you did?”</p><p>A pause. <i>You want to know if I’m going to do it again.</i> Viola’s voice is tense. Dani sips her tea.<i> I- Dani.</i> She never calls her Dani.</p><p>Jamie watches her – the two of them – with worried eyes. Dani fights, wordless, against the soul in her brain. Eventually, she relents. “I just want to talk.”</p><p><i>You-</i> Viola, for once, is speechless. <i>You’re really alright if I-</i> Dani nods, gesturing.</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>
  <i>If you insist, Miss Clayton. </i>
</p><p>It’s a bit like dreaming, but more lifelike. Dani can feel the texture of the couch under her legs, the warmth of the mug in her hands, Jamie’s presence against her, foot pressed to her thigh like an anchor. The room is just the slightest bit blurry, the sounds like… well, like underwater. She’s still <i>here,</i> but she gets the gist: Viola’s in the driver’s seat.</p><p>“If you feel at all uncomfortable…” It’s Viola’s voice coming out of Dani’s mouth, and she gets the sense this is for Jamie’s benefit as much as it is for hers. Jamie nods, and Dani does too. She can tell she’s doing it, even if her physical body doesn’t move. She wonders if this is what Viola feels like most of the time.</p><p>“Okay.” Viola sets the mug of tea down and looks right into Jamie’s eyes. “Where should I begin?”</p><p>When Dani doesn’t offer any input, Jamie clears her throat. “How about when it started? When you… you know. When you died. ‘Less it’s a sore subject.”</p><p>“That’s… fine.” Viola breathes slowly, almost like she’s adjusting to the sensation. “Perdita. My sister, I’ve mentioned her. It was her what did it in the end. Not the sickness, crawling up my lungs to claim me, nor the sight of my daughter growing without me to hold her. It was Perdita’s hand, clung to my mouth and stopping my breath.” For such a heavy moment, Viola’s voice is remarkably steady, her thoughts remarkably calm. Dani waits.</p><p>“They buried me on the grounds and left a stone for me in the chapel. You might have seen it.” Both Dani and Jamie nod. “And at some point, I woke up. I don’t remember when, to be truthful. It may have been days, hours, or perhaps even years after I died. Time is hard to tell in a darkened room like that.” Viola clears her throat. “It became clear almost at once where I was. The chest, where I laid my legacy, my dearest possessions for my dearest creation, was to be my final resting place. Almost… poetic.” Viola runs her palms over her thighs. Dani can feel that they’re slightly sweaty. “I waited for a very long time for Isabelle. She did not come.”</p><p>“Who came?” Jamie asks. Walter snorts, and she runs her thumb over his forehead. Dani, from where she rests at the back of her own body, reaches forward to rub at his fur as well. Viola seems surprised, but she relaxes into the motion after a moment.</p><p>“Perdita did.” She almost spits it. “She came for the wealth of the jewels and the dresses. The manor was failing, she said, and it was the only way. And I despise that I understand her reasoning, truly, I do. Just as I despised her when I reached out of that wretched box and stole her breath the way she did mine.”</p><p>Jamie goes still.</p><p>“My dear husband wanted nothing to do with the cursed chest. He threw it in the lake, and Isabelle helped him.” Viola sucks in a breath, and sits back, away from Walter and Jamie both. “And that’s where I laid, for years and years and years.”</p><p>“The lake at Bly,” Jamie whispers, and Viola nods.</p><p>“The very same.” She cocks her head to the side and furrows her brow. “When did you first come to Bly Manor, Miss Taylor?”</p><p>Jamie makes a face. “Eh… ’83, I think. Four years before Dani, yeah?”</p><p>“I see. Yes, by then there was the vicar. The doctor. The little boy, the soldier. And dear Perdita, of course.” Viola breathes deep. “You ask why I did it. The truthful answer, the only I can give, is that I verily do not know. I needed something. I think that I needed it from the moment I was torn from the world. A way to say goodbye, or even a person to say goodbye to. When I was denied that chance, it sparked… an anger in me.”</p><p>“You think?” Jamie mutters. Dani wants to admonish her, but Viola is running the show and she doesn’t exactly want to interrupt.</p><p>Viola chuckles all the same. “I suppose I can see how that might be obvious.” Her breath slows as she glances outward, not looking Jamie in the eye. “The water in that lake washed not only my features away. It also washed away what I was and what I had loved. When we lose that part of ourselves, we become nothing but the primal anger we have been from the start. What every human is at their deepest recesses.”</p><p>“I can get that,” Jamie cuts in. Viola and Dani’s eyes snap to her. “I can get that, yeah.”</p><p>“Then you must also know,” Viola says appraisingly, “what it feels like to lose yourself in the anger. By the end I had no concept of who I was or who I had been. I had only an image, of a young girl in a bed, smiling up at me, and the feeling – a deep feeling – that she was somehow mine. My key.” Jamie nods. “I wish I could tell you I repent. I wish I could feel regret for the lives lost at the bottom of that lake. All those lives. Your Rebecca Jessel, that kindly soul, and Peter Quint, as well.”</p><p>“Shit, don’t apologize for that wanker,” Jamie snorts. “Peter fucking Quint deserves to drown a thousand times. Then I’ll shoot him for good measure.”</p><p>“I respect that fire in you,” Viola says with a hint of amusement in her voice. “That is the right kind of anger. What I felt… that is not. And yet, I cannot bring myself to regret, because at a time I made those decisions without believing that there would be consequences outside of my own understanding. And are we not but responsible for only ourselves?”</p><p>Jamie nods, staring Viola straight in the eye. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”</p><p>Dani can feel Viola’s shuddering deep breath in her lungs. “Well. I suppose that’s that, then. If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to take a nap.”</p><p>And with that, Dani feels in herself again. It’s a jolting sensation, like she’s been almost asleep for a very long time. Jamie’s hand is immediately on the back of her neck, their foreheads pressed together.</p><p>“You have a murderous ghost lady inside of you,” Jamie states the obvious.</p><p>“I think she’s morally ambiguous, actually,” Dani says. Jamie laughs and kisses her, and Dani can’t feel Viola anywhere.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. and the rest of time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>welcome back! when we last left off, viola was dramatically narrating her descent into evil. we now return to something lighter, aka dani proposing with a sad little plant. so have fun with that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She comes back, of course. Dani doesn’t think Viola would know how to leave, even if she wanted to. And when she comes back, she’s different. The weight that Dani’s been feeling since she left Bly is less… weighty. Viola seems lighter somehow, or even just normal. Dani wakes up one morning to find Jamie stroking the side of her face, looking at her all weird.</p>
<p>“What?” She asks.</p>
<p>“We were talking last night. Her and I,” Jamie says, sucking in a breath. “You were asleep but she wasn’t. We talked about… blame. And guilt.”</p>
<p>That’s all Jamie says about it, but Dani knows that as much as that conversation was probably for Viola’s benefit, it was for Jamie’s as well. Jamie feels more comfortable in her skin since their couch chat, knowing there’s someone else who sees things the way she does, who knows what she’s gone through to get here. And she really doesn’t mind if Jamie wants to… vent sometimes, to someone who isn’t her but is. She just asks that Viola warn her first, is all.</p>
<p>
  <i>As you wish, Miss Clayton.</i>
</p>
<p>So life goes back to its <i>The Exorcist</i> style normal. When Viola pops up, with either an opinion on their lives or some odd question about modern life Dani has to answer, she stays for a bit and chats. It still doesn’t feel like an imposition. Dani is getting used to sharing her brain and body with someone else. It has been five years, after all.</p>
<p>And it hasn’t only been five years with Viola. It’s been five years with Jamie.</p>
<p>
  <i>That is a plant, Miss Clayton.</i>
</p>
<p>“Jamie likes plants, Viola.” Dani is sitting on the curb outside the pawnshop on Main Street holding a plant. She had borrowed it a few weeks ago from the kindly woman a few doors down with the three cats, and she had tried to nurse it to full health but really, Jamie’s the one with the green thumb, Dani’s is more like purple. So the plant looks a little dead now, but no matter, it almost makes her excuse better. Dani’s fingers are crusted in dirt because she’s spent the last six minutes burying a bronze claddagh ring in the roots of this sad little philodendron. And now, she’s going to give it to Jamie.</p>
<p>
  <i>And she will think this is endearing, and not strange, the way you are choosing to mark your engagement? </i>
</p>
<p>“She’ll think it’s endearing,” Dani sighs and stands up. Really, she just has to go for it. It’s not like, what? Jamie’s going to run out of their apartment and never come back? Dani’s not <i>that</i> bad to be married to, really. Or, almost married. Married in their heads, because other people suck. Whatever. She’s doing this.</p>
<p>If Dani wasn’t crazy, she wouldn’t have read too much into the way Viola almost seemed to be anxious. Or at the very least, clapping her hands in encouragement. <i>If she doesn’t say yes, please know I would choke her for you.</i></p>
<p>“You’re not choking my wife.”</p>
<p><i>She is not yet your wife, technically.</i> Dani narrows her eyes. <i>I will abstain from the choking at your behest.</i></p>
<p>“Right.” Dani unlocks the door to the apartment with a slightly shaking hand. Jamie is at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smells like tomato sauce but might also be chili.</p>
<p>“How many years in this kitchen? My cooking is still shite.” Dani loves this about them. How Jamie doesn’t even say <i>hi</i> anymore. Just jumps right in like they were never apart. Like they’re one person, like they need no time to know each other. She never thought she’d know anyone as well as Jamie. But she does now, and it’s <i>good.</i> </p>
<p>“What happened there, then?” She asks, dropping the wooden spoon carelessly in the sauce. If given the choice between wrangling dinner and wrangling plants, Jamie will choose plants every time.</p>
<p>Dani gestures uselessly with the plant. “Found it on the street.” Jamie’s eyebrows raise. “Wanted to save it.”</p>
<p>And the smile that spreads across Jamie’s face is worth a thousand, million anxious butterflies in her stomach. That’s not just a <i>Jamie loves plants</i> smile. That’s a <i>Jamie loves Dani</i> smile, and it’s worth everything in the world. It makes Dani’s heart race with more than just nerves. “Give it here, then.”</p>
<p>Jamie takes the pot and Dani goes to the stove to keep stirring, albeit halfheartedly. She grins at Jamie’s low mutters, a quiet “what is going on here” followed by a “fucking hell” as she digs her fingers into the dry dirt. </p>
<p>“Well, there’s your problem, your roots have been…” Jamie trails off as sudden, intense, warm fear drops into the pit of Dani’s stomach. “Dani, why is there a-”</p>
<p>“Here’s the thing.” When Jamie turns around, Dani is standing there, hands by her sides, pot bubbling away. She meets Jamie’s eyes. “You are my best friend. And the love of my life. And our lives are already very strange, but honestly, there’s nobody else I’d rather be on this adventure with.” Jamie snorts, a watery sound. “And I know we can’t technically get married. But I also don’t really care. We can wear  the rings, and we’ll know.” Jamie fingers the delicate metal, her smile flickering in disbelief. “And that’s enough for me. If… it’s enough for you.”</p>
<p>Jamie slides the ring on her finger, clasping it tight. “I reckon that’s enough for me, yeah,” she whispers, before diving in to absolutely <i>devour</i> Dani’s lips.</p>
<p>So later that night, as Dani climbs out of bed next to her wife (they’re skipping the fiancé part, there’s no point, really) wrapped in nothing but one of Jamie’s flannels and a scratchy blanket and walks to the bathroom, she is a little surprised when she feels the tickle of Viola’s presence.</p>
<p>“You disappeared earlier,” she says, washing her hands. “I’m going to make some tea.”</p>
<p><i>If you know what’s good for you, you will do no such thing.</i> Viola sounds stern. <i>As for my timely withdrawal, I simply decided the two of you could use, and here she clears her throat, privacy.</i></p>
<p>Dani grins at the memory of the evening. When she pads out to the kitchen, the pot of sauce is still on the stove, now still and cold. “You know, if you both keep insulting my tea making skills…”</p>
<p><i>All I am saying is that I would make a cup of hot chocolate instead, perhaps.</i> Viola says this as a person, incorporeal or no, who absolutely detests the taste of hot chocolate. </p>
<p>Dani follows Viola’s advice and makes a cup of hot cocoa, taking it to the windowsill. The glass is pushed open, and the bitter fall wind creeping inside makes her shiver. She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “So where <i>did</i> you go earlier?”</p>
<p><i>Where I usually do,</i> Viola answers softly. <i>Dreams, of a sort.</i></p>
<p>“Any nightmares?”</p>
<p><i>Sometimes.</i> In the glass of the window, Dani can just faintly see Viola’s reflection, with a small smile and shining eyes. She’s sitting opposite Dani in the window, playing with the hem of the dress she wears. It’s white, made of silk and chiffon, simple but elegant. There’s not a trace of the lake left on her anymore.</p>
<p>Dani sips her hot cocoa. “You wanna talk about them?”</p>
<p>
  <i>As much as you might wish, I am not one of your schoolchildren, Miss Clayton. Viola sighs anyway. When there are nightmares, they are often about my past.</i>
</p>
<p>“I know. I get those too.”</p>
<p>Viola hums. <i>You see me.</i> It isn’t a question.</p>
<p>They sit in silence for a few moments, Dani sipping her cocoa, Viola still inside her mind. Eventually, she speaks again. <i>What do you see me dream of most often, Miss Clayton?</i></p>
<p>Dani shrugs. “All sorts of things. The lake. The house. Your family.”</p>
<p><i>My family,</i> Viola says softly. <i>Perdita and Arthur. Isabelle, yes?</i> At Dani’s hesitant nod, she sighs. <i>They were not my family. Perhaps they were, but not for very long. When something like a sickness comes to take you, Miss Clayton, you must understand that those around you, though they may love you… there is always a part of them that will be burdened by you. Either by taking care of you, or the act of loving you so fiercely that they lose whatever they were before in it. </i></p>
<p>Dani hums. She thinks of Owen, packing up his life to take care of his mother, desperate and lost when she passed. She thinks of what she once feared in the future, pain and fear and wandering days all while Jamie watched, the ticking time bomb of the ghost inside of her.</p>
<p><i>With Arthur and I, and even Perdita, in a way, that was the former. They became embroiled in the weight of me. I stank of their dwindling futures. That is what brought Perdita to bring me to my end. And what I once told you, about understanding, is true. </i>Dani quirks her lips, the memory springing to mind. <i>If it had been me in her place, I cannot see myself acting much differently.</i></p>
<p>“I suppose we all have our breaking points,” Dani murmurs. Her mug is going cold in her hands.</p>
<p><i>Your Jamie does not.</i> Viola sounds… almost reverent. <i>Your Jamie loves you so violently she could end life with it. That is the kind of love that will not let you go, no matter what conclusion it is presented with. </i></p>
<p>“Love shouldn’t be idle, you know.” Dani isn’t sure where the thought comes from, but it feels true as it passes through her lips. “If someone is just… there, loving because they have to, not because they want to, that isn’t real love. Real love is work and effort, but…” And Dani remembers a gate and some flowers, a speech lasting long enough for her to fall in love. She smiles. “I mean, it’s worth it.”</p>
<p>In the window’s reflection, Dani can see the ghost of a smile dash across Viola’s lips. <i>You both have taught me something, about love like that.</i></p>
<p>“And what’s that?” Dani asks playfully. Viola opens her mouth to respond, but something cuts her off.</p>
<p>“There you are, Poppins.” Jamie slides her arms around Dani’s waist and presses a kiss to her hair, and she instinctively leans into the touch, smiling. Viola’s presence fades away the slightest bit. When Jamie pulls away, she sits on the window ledge, in the same spot Viola had been. She lights a cigarette from the kitchen counter and takes a drag, offering it to Dani.</p>
<p>They trade the cigarette back and forth as the clouds pass over the moon. “Were you talking to Viola?” Jamie asks at some point. Dani nods. Jamie hums.</p>
<p>“She said we taught her stuff about love.”</p>
<p>Jamie snorts. “Suppose if that’s all I get as my legacy, I will have at least had a positive impact.” Dani breaks out into soft laughter, burying her head in Jamie’s gently shaking shoulder. They tangle up together and stay like that until sunrise.</p>
<p>And of course -  in its roundabout way – Viola’s advice becomes useful. It is, after all, Viola’s permission along with Jamie’s encouragement that finally gets Dani back into teaching again. It’s thanks to Viola’s insistence on <i>maternal presence</i> as well as Jamie’s loving hands she calls up Judy O’Mara seven years after Bly and asks if she’d like to visit sometime.</p>
<p>(That visit goes spectacularly. Judy is charmed by Jamie’s accent, coos over Walter, and doesn’t mention anything about how they only have one bed, and she even gets to take home some tomato seeds courtesy of The Leafling. Viola, for her part, disappears for the weekend, and Dani only notices on Sunday that her eyes have been completely, blessedly blue the whole time. <i>That</i> would be a tad hard to explain.)</p>
<p>Dani wouldn’t call this arrangement they’ve got going <i>ideal;</i> she would certainly love to be the sole occupant of her body, and she’s sure Viola doesn’t particularly like taking a backseat all the time, but it’s comfortable. It works, and it has worked for about eight years now, and they can make do for as long as they have to.</p>
<p>Dani still never stops waking up thankful that it <i>does</i> work. That Viola doesn’t need <i>more.</i> That she can placate the beast in her jungle with bitter tea and bland conversation, and in return she gets to live a life with her favorite person, and she gets to be well and truly <i>happy.</i></p>
<p>And Dani has the sense that if Viola really wanted to, she could go. Flit off, be free, shuffle off this mortal coil never to be heard from again. And Dani would let her, if that’s what she wanted. But… Viola sticks around. Because – and maybe Dani is truly crazy for thinking this – maybe she likes them.</p>
<p>Jamie makes her tea, tells her stupid modern facts that usually make her inconsolably confused, and chats with her about the various societal meanings of flowers. By Dani’s thirty-eighth birthday, they’ve given up on their petty rivalry for Dani’s affections. Viola knows that nothing could replace Jamie in Dani’s heart, and Jamie knows Viola probably isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. They poke fun at each other, sure, but that’s all. Dani would even call them… chums.</p>
<p>Dani herself does her best to keep Viola happy. In addition to the tea séances (which are no longer quite monthly but still occur often), they institute a regular movie night, in which Viola is often given permission to choose the movie and subsequently ogle the beauty that is, well, the twentieth century. She is quite fond of period pieces still, of course. She is also quite a big fan of murder mysteries, a habit Jamie is all too happy to indulge.</p>
<p>Dani likes unwinding in the afternoons after school with a hot drink and Viola’s company, if Jamie isn’t  around. A classroom full of small children is no less hectic than it was a decade ago, and if anything can calm Dani down from her teacher responsibility high, it’s Viola’s soothing voice narrating some illicit story about tax fraud and Jamie’s strong gardener’s hands giving her a backrub.</p>
<p>It’s after a day in which Dani is simultaneously exhausted out of her mind and too keyed up to do anything other than pace when Jamie decides it’s time for a séance. She brings out the mugs, Dani gets the steno pad, and they sit with tea between them.</p>
<p>“How’ve you been, Kitty?” Jamie asks cheekily, watching the paper in front of her for any signs of life. None come. She glances up at Dani. “She… busy or something?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.” Dani frowns. Viola isn’t exactly predictable, but she does come when called. Walter, nearing old age and slowing, twines around Dani’s feet, like he’s looking for Viola as well. He’s taken a shine to her that she has never quite reciprocated. Their other dog, Bertram (Dani calls him Bertie and Jamie calls him Berto Bean, and they love him very dearly) feels about the same ire for Viola that she does for him. Contrarily, he adores Dani. They’re not sure how he can tell the difference, but he can. He’s a magic dog.</p>
<p>Dani reaches out inside her head for where Viola normally is, but there’s nothing there but scrapes of camellia perfume. She squints, digging further, but-</p>
<p>“Dani. Don’t freak, but…”  Jamie points with her teaspoon, and Dani turns over her shoulder to find Viola, standing in the mirror, waving at them with a smirk on her face.</p>
<p>“You see her too, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Jamie drinks her tea, seemingly handling this new development fine. “Damn. I didn’t think she’d be so pretty.”</p>
<p>“I know, right?” Dani leans in and whispers conspiratorially. “It’s really unfair.”</p>
<p>“I can hear you, you know.” And of course she can, because there she is. Viola waves merrily. Gone is her normal flowing nightdress, replaced by ripped denim jeans, a loose white cotton top, and a necklace that looks suspiciously like Jamie’s, with the gold chain and the lock. “Have I stunned you speechless yet?”</p>
<p>Apparently not, because Dani says “you changed your clothes.” Jamie gives her very intense side eye.</p>
<p>“One of many new tricks I’ve learned.” Viola’s smile is sly. “This whole… mirror part is another.” She waves her hand generally around the space. “I quite like having control over my own limbs again, I’ll have you know.” She leans against the frame of the mirror casually, one hand in her pocket. She looks (if she weren’t an incorporeal reflection) like the kind of person they might find at a bar for <i>their sort.</i> “I don’t believe I’ve been able to tell you this yet, Jamie, but. You make an excellent cup of tea.” She winks at Jamie, and Dani <i>swears,</i> until the end of time, she sees a faint blush cross Jamie’s cheeks.</p>
<p>Viola glances at them both, in turn, with curious eyes. “Now. I noticed earlier that you’re discounting begonias for the spring sale, is that correct? You might want to reconsider, the market is simply unforgiving this time of year and with such a commodity-”</p>
<p>Jamie cuts her off. “You’ve got a nice accent, love.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Viola’s smile kind of freaks Dani out, mostly because she thinks her wife and her… <i>ahem</i> ghost might actually be. Well, flirting a little bit? “You grow lovely flowers,” Viola returns with a  compliment, and Jamie busies herself with drinking tea.</p>
<p>“Go on then. Something about the begonia sale.” She gestures, making eyes at Dani, who just shrugs.</p>
<p>Viola doesn’t pull that trick many times. Once or twice, but as she tells Dani, it saps strength out of her and is more uncomfortable than you’d imagine. <i>You would think being able to move after so long would be nice, but it practically hurts, if such a thing is possible. </i></p>
<p>In… celebration, probably, is the best word, of Jamie and Dani’s eleven year anniversary, and subsequently their eleven year anniversary away from Bly, they plan an elaborate trip to Owen’s restaurant in Paris and to spend some time backpacking around Europe. They get someone to watch the shop for a few weeks or so, schedule flights for the summer so Dani’s work isn’t a factor, and buy more maps than they probably need. And on a day off, for no reason, Dani takes Viola (real, almost physical Viola) out on errands with her. She realizes it is a mistake when they pass by the little boutique on Main Street.</p>
<p><i>Dani. Come look at this for a second.</i> Viola has given up on the whole <i>Miss Clayton, Miss Taylor</i> thing. She did it, actually, pretty soon after they got married. <i>How will I tell two Mrs. Claytons apart</i> was her reasoning, but Dani suspects she’s just gotten used to 1990s social customs. Anyway, she’s in the shop window, waving excitedly.</p>
<p>Dani wanders over. In the window is a vintage-looking white dress that seems like the kind of thing she’d find in an old movie. It’s short, lace covered, with capped sleeves and a nice, tailored skirt and a pretty scandalous v-neck for that kind of dress. Viola is standing in the window next to it, gesturing wildly.</p>
<p><i>You really must try it on. It would complement your skin tone incredibly well. And your blonde curls over this bodice? Just divine.</i> When Dani said Viola would probably be an economics major, she forgot to mention she would also <i>definitely</i> minor in fashion design. <i>Go inside and ask to try it on.</i></p>
<p>And because Viola hasn’t been that much of a nuisance today, Dani listens. She walks into the boutique, politely asks the woman behind the counter if they have the dress in the window in a size medium, and is informed that it’s actually a custom design set out for a spring sale, and she’s welcome to try it on if she’s got the right measurements. Her measurements are close enough.</p>
<p>Dani carries the dress into a small changing room, in which Viola is already waiting for her. <i>My god. That embroidery is even more intricate up close.</i></p>
<p>“Don’t lose yourself over a dress, Viola,” Dani mutters, conscious of the fact that she’s still in public and technically talking to herself. She shucks off her pants and blouse and one of Jamie’s jackets and pulls the dress on rather ungracefully.</p>
<p>The zip won’t make it all the way up her back without some help, but the waist and the skirt blessedly fit perfectly. Dani pulls her hair over her shoulder and knocks her ankles together, examining herself. She’s not really as young as she was once upon a time (she turns forty this year) but her hair is still blonde, for the most part, and this dress makes her feel a little bit another dress like it did a long time ago, the kind of dress Dani never thought she would put on again. Like she’s beautiful. Like she’s <i>wanted</i> by something, someone. Jamie never fails to make her feel wanted, but something about this dress… if they had a real wedding, this is what Dani would wear to it.</p>
<p>And no, it doesn’t escape her notice that Viola <i>knew</i> that somehow, pointed it out for her just because. It proves, solidifies what she’s been knowing for a while. Viola cares.</p>
<p>And Viola, behind her, rests a hand on the shoulder of Dani’s reflection. Her voice is warm in contrast to the cool sensation Dani can just sort of feel. <i>Absolutely stunning, dear.</i> Her eyes seem almost cloudy. <i>You’re a vision. Any… anyone would be proud, to see you walk down a flowered aisle like this.</i></p>
<p>“Thank you,” Dani says, meaning more than just the compliment. Viola’s smile is genuine, if a little reserved. Dani opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong, but as she’s about to, the saleswoman knocks on the changing room door.</p>
<p>“All good in there?”</p>
<p>Dani scrambles and startles and when she readjusts, Viola is gone. “Yeah! Yea-huh! How much did you say this was again?”</p>
<p>She wears the dress later for Jamie. Though not for very long.</p>
<p>And only hours after they come back from their trip, sweaty, weary, happy and in love, and with more than enough polaroids of Europe to last them a lifetime, Viola taps on the back of Dani’s consciousness. <i>I’m a bit thirsty,</i> she says. They’ve only barely gotten off a flight, but Jamie puts the kettle on.</p>
<p>Of course, there’s an emergency with some allergic young woman down in the shop and then they have to pick Walter and Bertram up from the sitter’s, so the tea is cold by the time they finally get to it. Dani unfurls on the couch, laying back against a fluffy pillow. Jamie curls up in her lap between her legs, drinking tea heavily with bags under her eyes. Dani combs a hand through her hair, going grey at the edges but still so soft and unruly. She loves with everything she’s got.</p>
<p>They both watch the mirror expectantly.</p>
<p>Eventually, Viola fizzles to life, her image slightly hazy in the low light of the room. She raises her palms in a gesture of deference. “I apologize. I’ve been feeling rather… lost recently. Visits like these are difficult, you know.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it, love.” A jet-lagged Jamie is a step away from yawning and falling asleep right in Dani’s arms, but she forces herself alert. “What’d you have to say?”</p>
<p>Viola takes a deep breath, folding her hands regally and straightening her back. Dani’s shared a body with this woman for years now; this is a defensive move. “I suppose I wanted to apologize, to start.”</p>
<p>“You’ve already done that,” Dani points out.</p>
<p>Viola chuckles, shakes her head. “Properly apologize. For what I put you through for many years, and what I put everyone at that manor through.” Jamie narrows her eyebrows, and Viola knows what’s on her mind immediately. “Yes, I know. I said that I do not feel guilt, and that is still true. But sometimes it is not the impetus behind the words but the implication of them which means something, and that is true in this case. I am apologizing in order to show you…” she heaves a breath, her shoulders deflating slightly. “I wanted to show you that your lives did mean something to me, beyond their… convenience.”</p>
<p>Jamie and Dani exchange eyes. Sure, she’s <i>Viola</i> but that doesn’t mean that statement’s not a little worrying.</p>
<p>“I will admit,” Viola soldiers on, “that when this… arrangement began, I was delighted, to be frank. Finally, I thought, here is a chance to <i>live</i> again. Truly live, with a body properly, not just the sleeping and waking and walking…” Viola shakes her head as if throwing off some bad memory, like the way Walter does when he’s wet. “I thought, what a wonderful thing this woman has given me, this second chance. And then… I got to know you. Both of you,” she nods at Jamie, “and I realized that I could not, for one moment in good human conscience, treat either of you like a vessel to be used and discarded. You meant… you mean much more to me than that.”</p>
<p>“That’s sweet, Kitty,” Jamie says around a swallowed yawn. Viola’s smile is almost bitter. Dani doesn’t know how to react.</p>
<p>“Some, in my old life, called me strong, and others foolish. But none could deny that the willpower I maintained rivaled that of God himself. Willpower to live, to rule, to love, and eventually, to kill. It was a will maintained partly by fear and partly by rage, both so inhuman that it allowed the murky waters of that lake to wash away everything remotely human about me. My face included.” If Dani didn’t know better – and she really doesn’t – she would think Viola’s about to cry. “That rage and fear faded with time, to a gentle routine, harmful as it may have been. And when Dani here came along and disrupted it all-” Jamie snorts. “It’s true, though!” Viola protests. “All of the scraps I had been fighting for settled. I no longer saw my daughter waiting for me in a four poster bed. I saw two women, together, building love in a world that did not make it easy for them.” Dani grips Jamie’s hand tight. She feels the grip back, but she doesn’t really <i>feel</i> it. Half of her, she thinks, is in Viola right now. Understanding.</p>
<p>“Seeing again made all the difference, I think. And when I dreamed of the little girl I once called my daughter, I did not recognize her by that name.” Dani thinks of white dresses and a ghostly hand on her shoulder, of cups of tea and advice for the classroom and long afternoons of just, nothing. Dani thinks she doesn’t know what a real mother should feel like, and maybe she wouldn’t know it if she saw it, really.</p>
<p>“Do you remember when I told you,” Viola says to Jamie, “about the right kind of anger? The fire you felt sparking in your veins, and how fanning that flame was surely a mistake.” Jamie nods. “It’s still true, you know. Your devotion moves as many mountains as that anger. Don’t forget about either.” Jamie cocks her head and sips her tea, but listens. Viola turns to Dani. “And Dani. You, me…” here, she hesitates. “Us. We talked about love, once.”</p>
<p>“We did,” Dani nods.</p>
<p>“You told me that love is not idle, do you remember that?” Viola’s eyes squint tight for just a moment. “Love should be ardent, and fierce, and so heavy you might fall under it. An idle love is a love that can be left, and no love should be left behind. Love should be fought for, never settled for, and love…” Viola looks to Jamie and Dani’s joined hands, white-knuckled. “Love, where you find it, will be good. Worth it, even. And it is to be treasured.”</p>
<p>Dani isn’t sure what passes through Viola’s eyes then, but whatever it is feels final. There’s a settling in their joined hearts, all three of them, quite like peace.</p>
<p>“I’m quite tired, now,” Viola says, voice already fading. “I think there’s a bed waiting for me, somewhere in this darkness.”</p>
<p>Jamie waves a little goodbye and cuddles closer to Dani. By the time Viola’s faded entirely, Jamie’s asleep. A long time coming, honestly. Dani combs fingers through her hair as her breathing evens out.</p>
<p>She doesn’t sleep right away, but when she does, she dreams of Bly. It’s light and cheerful, and Viola dances with her daughter, and Dani can’t tell whose face she’s looking at: hers or Jamie’s.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Dani wakes up cramped the next morning. Jamie is staring at her, half reverent, half worried.</p>
<p>“Poppins,” she says slowly, “why’re both your eyes blue?”</p>
<p>Dani just smiles. “I think she let go last night.”</p>
<p>Jamie contemplates this information for a second, shifting on the couch. Finally, she leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Dani’s lips. “We did good by her, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Dani breathes as Jamie’s kisses make their way down her neck. “We did good.” A curl of dark hair and the edges of a white nightgown linger in the mirror when Dani shuts her right eye.</p>
<p>(So now it’s all over. And Dani doesn’t miss it.</p>
<p>But when she looks in the mirror sometimes and finds the ghost of Viola’s smile, she doesn’t mind at all.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>right then. that was a wild ride. psa, long end note incoming:</p>
<p>i didn't really mention viola's likely period-related sensibilities towards dani and jamie's relationship, mostly because i didn't exactly think it would factor into the fic that much. the homophobia of it all, as it were, would get in the way of what i really wanted to touch on, i.e. viola's love for them and how it saves her, the intersections between responsibility and guilt, viola's maternal instinct, etc. however, i do have thoughts:</p>
<p>viola did live the majority of her (conscious) life in the 1600s, where the idea of queer relationships kind of just... wasn't a thing, in the mainstream? i would imagine she wasn't exactly exposed to the concept, and therefore it would be relatively difficult for her to form opinions, positive or negative, on it. if religion factored into viola's life heavily (given that there's a chapel at bly, it's a possibility) then any european translation of the bible she would have been reading would not have contained the word homosexual (not coined by germans until the mid nineteenth century) and likely would have used the translation referring to pedophiles as the sinners, not gay men. all of this is to say, it's unlikely viola would have religious objections to dani and jamie's relationship. so from there, i went with what she does know. she knows they're in love, she knows they're devoted, and she knows that that's different from everything she's experienced thus far in her life when it comes to love. perdita, arthur, even isabelle all had a conditional sort of love for her, and though viola knew the true definition i think she struggled to see it in practice until she met dani and jamie. therefore, i don't think there would be any homophobia there, only curiosity and pride, and dare i say a little bit of envy, at their connection. </p>
<p>woof. sorry, theology gets me ranty. anyway, those are thoughts. hope the final installment was to your satisfaction. :)</p>
<p>come yell at me @amessofgaywords on twitter.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm still trapped in the bly manor gravity well, so... expect more content like this coming soon?</p><p>come yell at me @amessofgaywords on twitter.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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